Out of Place

Posted on Thu Sep 15th, 2022 @ 1:24pm by Ensign Michael Sloan & Ensign Isaac 'Zac' Hughes

Mission: Mission 6 - Memory
Location: Messhall
Timeline: MD 304
2010 words - 4 OF Standard Post Measure

It was the one time of the day that always reminded Sloan where he stood with the crew. During work hours, those around him showed no issue talking with him and spending time around him. However, in the private moments off duty, he usually sat alone. The viewport and his own thoughts usually kept him busy. Today, the menu was an algae burger with fries that almost tasted like the real thing.

Being released to quarters should have felt like something of a relief. As much as Sickbay would normally have been a familiar haven, the stomach-punch realisation that it wasn't his Sickbay had left Isaac only too willing to escape from it. Lying on his back staring at a different ceiling has certainly given him far more time to think but that, as it turned out, wasn't helping much. Like oil-slathered stones, his recent memories slipped further away the more he tried to grasp hold of them and there wasn't a lot of comfort in the older, well-worn recollections of home and family. Being 150 years away from them had been bad enough. Now...

Isaac shuffled into the Messhall, hands in pockets, looking every bit as lost as he felt. Despite the weight of his situation, he preferred to consider himself an optimist and starvation was a terrible way to die. A pragmatist's survival instinct had dragged him this far but the communal space only served to exacerbate the bizarre sensation of disembodiment that overwhelmed him in waves. So many faces were familiar, some not, but almost all of them had absolutely no idea who he was. With loaded tray, Hughes teleported right back to grade school as he turned to survey the available tables and found no option for sitting alone.

Seeing the new face in the mess hall immediately caught Sloan's attention. It was a face that he remembered as the person who was meant to be their Chief Medical Officer, but never made it to the ship. It was also the face of the person who had saved the crew aboard the escape pod from another universe, Michael had a passing interaction at the moment of landing but they had never spoken. Knowing what it was like to have a group of familiar faces treat you like a person they did not even know was something that the Chief Engineer had recently experience. "You're welcome to sit here," he called to the new arrival while motioning to an empty chair at his table.

Under normal circumstances, Isaac might have been grateful. It disturbed him greatly that his first reaction was distrust, wariness. Much of his time stretched out on his new bunk had been spent giving himself a pep talk on the folly of allowing paranoia to cloud your judgement, which was true but didn't immediately assist him in finding an even keel. Knitted eyebrows took a moment to puzzle out the man's identity but Hughes was left somewhat plagued by a sense of ought-to-have-known-more that, honestly, was kind of normal for the here-and-now. He had barely known the man's counterpart, despite the dubious honour of having declared him 'missing, presumed killed'. He remembered his manners as he slipped into one of the empty seat and gave the other man a gentle nod. "Thank you. I guess I hadn't noticed the time." Otherwise he would have definitely avoided a major meal rotation.

"It's the second wave," Michael replied, giving the crowd a once over. Not too long ago, Michael too would have avoided crowded areas like the plague. After realizing that very few people would treat him with outright open hostility and learning to live with the occasional look of mistrust had done much to help him overcome his aversion to crowds. However, the fact that he was still by himself in a corner of the room spoke to the fact that things were not all better. "It's weird isn't it?" Sloan asked. His voice sounded as though he had experienced the same feelings as he added, "The people. All of them with faces you thought you knew. Yet, something is different. The way they look and behave around you."

"Actually," Hughes replied as if about to correct, using his fork to mix in some of his food, "It's more... No, I suppose," he conceded, glancing around the room before taking a first tentative mouthful. "You have a point, if being ignored aside from the occasional puzzled frown counts as behaviour worth mentioning."

It was different for Ben, Zac understood. His counterpart had been an entity here, had formed relationships and been farewelled with varying degrees of remorse and regret. None of these people recognized Isaac, even those like Lottie who he'd worked closely with. There was just enough information in the database to verify his identity but this crew, who so closely resembled the people he'd befriended over the past year, wouldn't have even been able to pluck his name from the air unless they'd read it on a screen first.

Grasping a french fry and flipping it over, Michael wanted to ask about the other universe's version of himself. However, it was probably not the best opener to a conversation with a person he just met. Also trying to stay away from the horror stories, Michael was left with the best of smalltalk questions, "How are you adjusting to everything?"

Hughes glanced up over a mouthful, which he chewed before replying honestly. "I'm not sure I could claim that I am." There was nothing to hinge any sort of adjustment on currently, aside from finally being consulted on the condition of his patients. There seemed to be a general acceptance of the validity of his identity but very little traction on what actually happened next. This crew, after all, did not have an Isaac-shaped hole to fill. "But I'm sure that will come with time." At this point, optimism was challenging but far more palatable than hopelessness.

"I've read the background of this universe's Isaac Hughes, who is for all we know living life back on Earth," Michael replied. "I know things were different where you come from, but it may help to know what the situation in Sickbay was just before everything went wrong. Was there a Dr. zh'Kenarh aboard your Atlantis?" he asked, planning on using this as a suggestion that Isaac take on whatever the Andorian's position was.

Hughes shook his head. "I don't recall working with her. Your Captain mentioned that the doctor came on board when there was a delay in my transfer. If that's the case, then my...the other Hughes'", Isaac caught himself this time, "...absence is the reason for her being here."

Nodding his head, Michael remembered the scramble to fill the role of Chief Medical Officer. “We were lucky to even find a Chief Medical Officer,” he agreed. Looking down at the Isaac’s plate, Michael mentioned, “The protein comes from algae. We accidentally stole an entire harvest from a species known as the Vrav.” Shaking his head as if remembering a difficult memory, Sloan added, “It was the beginning of me discovering what I am, and why I’m an engineer instead of Chief Armory Officer.”

Isaac paused mid-bite to frown slightly at the other man. He'd forgotten what Sloan; his Sloan, for want of another qualifier, had been responsible for. The man's death had occurred early in Hughes' transfer and there had been so much in the ensuing months that consumed the crew's focus and attention that Isaac had admittedly not spared the Chief much thought. He certainly had no way to piece together what his lunch partner meant by 'what I am'. Instead, he glanced down at his food.

"Huh. It's actually not bad."

Pushing the thoughts of another version of himself wandering another galaxy, Sloan looked at his food. “It tastes better after all we went through to get it.”

What they went through to get it. It was an odd thing to fixate on, this solitary hamburger and all it represented, but thus far it was the first significant difference Isaac had encountered between this vessel and his own. "I don't think I've heard of the Vrav, to the best of my recollection, which I think I can trust beyond the last week or so, we never encountered them. Our food sources were...a little more erratic."

Nodding, Sloan replied, "At first, our entire storage of food was irradiated by whatever brought us here. On the verge of starvation, we happened to discover an abandoned planet with a small, terraformed zone. The algae that was growing there would solve all of our food problems for the foreseeable future." Shaking his head, he went on, "After we extracted the majority of the algae, we discovered that the planet was not abandoned. The Vrav were a space faring species that lived on a vast flotilla. They used such planets as autonomous farms, and this was their biggest one. I was captured and they discovered something about me that I did not even know." His voice trailed off a little as the experience had been traumatic. "They gave chase, and we missed a wormhole that would have brought us home."

Hughes chewed on his next mouthful a little more slowly, preoccupied with following details that outlined a far different experience than his own version of Atlantis had endured. That intrigued him, especially given the discernible plethora of similarities that had first made the situation so disorienting. This, at least, seemed a significant divergence and it was difficult not to get caught up in wondering where the fractures started. "Not the best ending," he hazarded, "but not the worst either." He motioned towards Sloan with his remaining burger. "You got uncaptured, at least."

"I did, though I spent a good amount of time in the Brig afterwards," Sloan replied. "I'm not sure who my counterpart was in your universe, but whatever those aliens did to me, they revealed some things." Without going into detail, as he had no baseline to determine how Isaac would react, Sloan changed the subject. "How did your crew fulfill the need for food?"

"We were in the midst of trying to solve that when we encountered Kowalski. Smith," Isaac amended, "Whatever it was calling itself in the end. We'd managed for a while, scrounged and traded for a few hauls of fresh produce and seeds. Our most successful yield was a variety of cabbage that may forever torment me so we were definitely keen for a more sustainable alternative." Zac offered wry smile over another mouthful. "Extracting viable protein from a nebula cluster was a little more adventurous than we'd originally hoped, if you count taking on board a murderous lifeform as over-committing. We were holding up as best we could," the doctor added quietly, "but lack of condition probably only helped him get the better of us."

Nodding in understanding, his own crew had fallen into the same trap. "Desperation only helps you make bad decisions," Sloan replied. "We would have been home months ago had we not gone to the algae planet, or investigated it for a few more hours. But, the Vrav stopped us from making it to a wormhole home." Taking a sip from his cup, Sloan added on a more cheerful note, "I am glad that you made it out alive, and all of us get to live on another day." Picking up his cup as a kind of toast, he said, "To your Atlantis, may she be remembered."

Isaac considered the offer over a mouthful of burger, which he lowered to his plate so that he could pick up his own mug. If he was honest, the enthusiasm for commemorating anything was a little lacking, still too close to the loss to have properly processed it, but he humoured the other man if only because he understood it was meant kindly. He tapped his cup gently against the other.

"Always."